North America

A traveler came upon an old farmer hoeing in his field beside the road.
Eager to rest his feet, the wanderer hailed the countryman, who seemed
happy enough to straighten his back and talk for a moment.

"What sort of people live in the next town?" asked the stranger.

"What were the people like where you've come from?" replied the farmer,
answering the question with another question.

"They were a bad lot. Troublemakers all, and lazy too. The most selfish
people in the world, and not a one of them to be trusted. I'm happy to
be leaving the scoundrels."

"Is that so?" replied the old farmer. "Well, I'm afraid that you'll find
the same sort in the next town.

Disappointed, the traveler trudged on his way, and the farmer returned to
his work.

Some time later another stranger, coming from the same direction, hailed
the farmer, and they stopped to talk. "What sort of people live in the
next town?" he asked.

"What were the people like where you've come from?" replied the farmer
once again.

"They were the best people in the world. Hard working, honest, and
friendly. I'm sorry to be leaving them."

"Fear not," said the farmer. "You'll find the same sort in the next
town."

Japan

Once upon a time in the country of Japan there lived two frogs, one of
whom made his home in a ditch near the town of Osaka, on the sea coast,
while the other dwelt in a clear little stream which ran through the city
of Kyoto. At such a great distance apart, they had never even heard of
each other; but, funnily enough, the idea came into both their heads at
once that they should like to see a little of the world, and the frog who
lived at Kyoto wanted to visit Osaka, and the frog who lived at Osaka
wished to go to Kyoto, where the great Mikado had his palace.

So one fine morning in the spring they both set out along the road that
led from Kyoto to Osaka, one from one end and the other from the other.
The journey was more tiring than they expected, for they did not know
much about traveling, and halfway between the two towns there arose a
mountain which had to be climbed. It took them a long time and a great
many hops to reach the top, but there they were at last, and what was the
surprise of each to see another frog before him!

They looked at each other for a moment without speaking, and then fell
into conversation, explaining the cause of their meeting so far from
their homes. It was delightful to find that they both felt the same
wish--to learn a little more of their native country--and as there was no
sort of hurry they stretched themselves out in a cool, damp place, and
agreed that they would have a good rest before they parted to go their
ways.

"What a pity we are not bigger," said the Osaka frog; "for then we could
see both towns from here, and tell if it is worth our while going on."

"Oh, that is easily managed," returned the Kyoto frog. "We have only got
to stand up on our hind legs, and hold onto each other, and then we can
each look at the town he is traveling to."

This idea pleased the Osaka frog so much that he at once jumped up and
put his front paws on the shoulder of his friend, who had risen also.
There they both stood, stretching themselves as high as they could, and
holding each other tightly, so that they might not fall down. The Kyoto
frog turned his nose towards Osaka, and the Osaka frog turned his nose
towards Kyoto; but the foolish things forgot that when they stood up
their great eyes lay in the backs of their heads, and that though their
noses might point to the places to which they wanted to go, their eyes
beheld the places from which they had come.

"Dear me!" cried the Osaka frog, "Kyoto is exactly like Osaka. It is
certainly not worth such a long journey. I shall go home!"

"If I had had any idea that Osaka was only a copy of Kyoto I should never
have traveled all this way," exclaimed the frog from Kyoto, and as he
spoke he took his hands from his friend's shoulders, and they both fell
down on the grass. Then they took a polite farewell of each other, and
set off for home again, and to the end of their lives they believed that
Osaka and Kyoto, which are as different to look at as two towns can be,
were as alike as two peas.

The Jataka Tales

Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the future
Buddha was born in a minister's family; and when he grew up, he became
the king's adviser in things temporal and spiritual.

Now this king was very talkative; while he was speaking, others had no
opportunity for a word. And the future Buddha, wanting to cure this
talkativeness of his, was constantly seeking for some means of doing so.

At that time there was living, in a pond in the Himalayan Mountains, a
tortoise. Two young wild ducks who came to feed there made friends with
him. And one day, when they had become very intimate with him, they said
to the tortoise, "Friend tortoise, the place where we live, at the Golden
Cave on Mount Beautiful in the Himalayan country, is a delightful spot.
Will you come there with us?"

"But how can I get there?"

"We can take you, if you can only hold your tongue, and will say nothing
to anybody."

"Oh, that I can do. Take me with you."

"That's right," said they. And making the tortoise bite hold of a stick,
they themselves took the two ends in their teeth, and flew up into the
air.

Seeing him thus carried by the ducks, some villagers called out, "Two
wild ducks are carrying a tortoise along on a stick!"

Whereupon the tortoise wanted to say, "If my friends choose to carry me,
what is that to you, you wretched slaves?" So just as the swift flight
of the wild ducks had brought him over the king's palace in the city of
Benares, he let go of the stick he was biting, and falling in the open
courtyard, split in two!

And there arose a universal cry, "A tortoise has fallen in the open
courtyard, and has split in two!"

The king, taking the future Buddha, went to the place, surrounded by his
courtiers, and looking at the tortoise, he asked the Bodisat, "Teacher,
how has it possible that he has fallen here?"

The future Buddha thought to himself, "Long expecting, wishing to
admonish the king, I have sought for some means of doing so. This
tortoise must have made friends with the wild ducks; and they must have
made him bite hold of the stick, and have flown up into the air to take
him to the hills. But he, being unable to hold his tongue when he hears
anyone else talk, must have wanted to say something, and let go of the
stick; and so must have fallen down from the sky, and thus lost his
life." And saying, "Truly, oh king, those who are called
chatterboxes--people whose words have no end--come to grief like this,"
he uttered these verses:

Verily, the tortoise killed himself
While uttering his voice;
Though he was holding tight to stick,
By a word he slew himself.

Behold him then, oh excellent by strength!
And speak wise words, not out of season.
You see how, by his talking overmuch,
The tortoise fell into this wretched plight!

The king saw that he was himself referred to, and said, "Oh teacher, are
you speaking of us?"

And the Bodisat spoke openly, and said, "Oh great king, be it you, or be
it any other, whoever talks beyond measure meets with some mishap like
this."

And the king henceforth refrained himself, and became a man of few words.

Additionally, this ancient story is found in fable collections throughout
India, the Mid East, and
Europe. La Fontaine's version from seventeenth century France has the
ill-fated tortoise meet his end when he tries to fly to America.
Although most versions stress the value of keeping one's mouth shut, two
additional teachings also emerge: "Poverty at home is better than death
on the road," and, "If God had intended turtles to fly, he would have
given them wings."

The Jataka Tales

Once on a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta
was born in a village as a potter's son. He plied the potter's trade,
and had a wife and family to support.

At that time there lay a great natural lake close by the great river of
Benares. When there was much water, river and lake were one; but when
the water was low, they were apart. Now fish and tortoises know by
instinct when the year will be rainy and when there will be a drought.

So at the time of our story the fish and tortoises which lived in that
lake knew there would be a drought; and when the two were one water, they
swam out of the lake into the river. But there was one tortoise that
would not go into the river, because, said he, "here I was born, and here
I have grown up, and here is my parents' home. Leave it I cannot!"

Then in the hot season the water all dried up. He dug a hole and buried
himself, just in the place where the Bodhisatta was used to come for
clay. There the Bodhisatta came to get some clay. With a big spade he
dug down, until he cracked the tortoise's shell, turning him out on the
ground as though he were a large piece of clay. In his agony the
creature thought, "Here I am, dying, all because I was too fond of my
home to leave it!" And in the words of these following verses, he made
his moan:

Here was I born, and here I lived; my refuge was the clay;
And now the clay has played me false in a most grievous way;
Thee, thee I call, oh Bhaggava; hear what I have to say!

Go where thou canst find happiness, where'er the place may be;
Forest or village, there the wise both home and birthplace see;
Go where there's life; nor stay at home for death to master thee.

So he went on and on, talking to the Bodhisatta, until he
died. The
Bodhisatta picked him up, and collecting all the villagers addressed them
thus: "Look at this tortoise. When the other fish and tortoises went
into the great river, he was too fond of home to go with them, and buried
himself in the place where I get my clay. Then as I was digging for
clay, I broke his shell with my big spade, and turned him out on the
ground in the belief that he was a large lump of clay. Then he called to
mind what he had done, lamented his fate in two verses of poetry, and
expired.

So you see he came to his end because he was too fond of his home. Take
care not to be like this tortoise. Don't say to yourselves, 'I have
sight, I have hearing, I have smell, I have taste, I have touch, I have a
son, I have a daughter, I have numbers of men and maids for my service, I
have precious gold.' Do not cleave to these things with craving and
desire. Each being passes through three stages of existence."

Thus did he exhort the crowd with all a Buddha's skill. The discourse
was bruited abroad all over India, and for full seven thousand years it
was remembered. All the crowd abode by his exhortation, and gave alms,
and did good until at last they went to swell the hosts of heaven.

Part of the canon of sacred Buddhist literature, this collection of some
550 anecdotes and fables depicts earlier incarnations--sometimes as an
animal, sometimes as a human--of the being who would become Siddhartha
Gautama, the future Buddha.

Traditional birth and death dates of Gautama
are 563-483 BC.

The Jataka tales are dated between 300 BC and 400 AD.

Now called Varanasi, Benares is a city in north central India on the
Ganges River. One of the world's oldest cities, Varanasi is the most
sacred place for Hindus. Buddhists and Muslims also have important
religious sites nearby. According to tradition, Buddha began his
teaching at Sarnath a short distance from the city.

The Panchatantra

In a certain place there once lived a dog by the name of Tschitranga,
which means "having a spotted body." A lengthy famine set in. Because
they had no food, the dogs and other animals began to leave their
families. Tschitranga, whose throat was emaciated with hunger, was
driven by fear to another country. There in a certain city he went to a
certain house day after day where, due to the carelessness of the
housekeeper, many good things to eat were left lying about, and he ate
his fill. However, upon leaving the house, other vicious dogs surrounded
him on all sides and tore into him on all parts of his body with their
teeth. Then he reconsidered his situation, and said, "It is better at
home. Even during a famine you can live there in peace, and no one bites
you to pieces. I will return to my own city."

Having thus thought it through, set forth to his own city. When he
arrived there, all of his relatives asked him, "Tschitranga, tell us
about where you have been. What is the country like? How do the people
behave? What do they eat? What do they do?"

He answered, "How can I explain to you the essence of a foreign place?
There are good things to eat in great variety, and housekeepers who do
not keep watch! There is only one evil in a foreign country: You will
be hated there because of who you are!"

Similar to type 112 (The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse). Source:
Pantschatantra: Fünf Bücher indischer Fabeln, Märchen und
Erzählungen,
translated into German by Theodor Benfey (Leipzig: Brockhaus, 1859),
v. 2, book 4, story 11. Translated from the German by D. L. Ashliman.

India's most influential contribution to world literature, the
Panchatantra consists of five books of animal fables and magic
tales (some 87 stories in all) that were compiled, in their current form,
between the third and fifth centuries AD. It is believed that even then
the stories were already ancient.

The tales' self-proclaimed purpose is
to educate the sons of royalty. Although the original author's or
compiler's name is unknown, an Arabic translation from about 750 AD
attributes the Panchatantra to a wise man called Bidpai, which
is probably a Sanskrit word meaning "court scholar."

The fables of the
Panchatantra found their way to Europe through oral folklore
channels and by way of Persian and Arabic translations. They
substantially influenced medieval writers of fables.

1001 Nights

Once there lived in Baghdad a wealthy man who lost all his means and was
thus forced to earn his living by hard labor. One night a man came to
him in a dream, saying, "Your fortune is in Cairo; go there and seek
it." So he set out for Cairo. He arrived there after dark and took
shelter for the night in a mosque. As Allah would have it, a band of
thieves entered the mosque in order to break into an adjoining house.
The noise awakened the owners, who called for help. The Chief of Police
and his men came to their aid. The robbers escaped, but when the police
entered the mosque they found the man from Baghdad asleep there. They
laid hold of him and beat him with palm rods until he was nearly dead,
then threw him into jail.

Three days later the Chief of Police sent for him and asked, "Where do
you come from?"

"From Baghdad," he answered.

"And what brought you to Cairo?"

"A man came to me in a dream and told me to come to Cairo to find my
fortune," answered the man from Baghdad "But when I came here, the
promised fortune proved to be the palm rods you so generously gave to me."

"You fool," said the Chief of Police, laughing until his wisdom teeth
showed. "A man has come to me three times in a dream and has described a
house in Baghdad where a great sum of money is supposedly buried beneath
a fountain in the garden. He told me to go there and take it, but I
stayed here. You, however, have foolishly journeyed from place to place
on the faith of a dream which was nothing more than a meaningless
hallucination." He then gave him some money saying, "This will help you
return to your own country."

The man took the money. He realized that the Chief of Police had just
described his own house in Baghdad, so he forthwith returned home, where
he discovered a great treasure beneath the fountain in his garden. Thus
Allah gave him abundant fortune and brought the dream's prediction to
fulfillment.

Since its first translation into a European language between 1704 and
1717, The Thousand and One Nights, also known as The Arabian
Nights, has been recognized as a universal classic of fantasy
narrative. It is, of course, a much older work and one with a
complicated genealogy. Based on Indian, Persian, and Arab folklore, this
work dates back at least 1000 years as a unified collection, with many of
its individual stories undoubtedly being even older.

One of the
collection's forebears is a book of Persian tales, likely of Indian
origin, titled A Thousand Legends. These stories were
translated into Arabic about 850, and at least one reference from about
the year 950 calls them The Thousand and One Nights.

Arabic stories, primarily from Baghdad and Cairo were added to the ever
evolving
collection, which by the early 1500's had assumed its more-or-less final
form.

England

Constant tradition says that there lived in former times in Soffham
(Swaffham), alias Sopham, in Norfolk, a certain pedlar, who dreamed that
if he went to London Bridge, and stood there, he should hear very joyful
news, which he at first slighted, but afterwards, his dream being doubled
and trebled upon him, he resolved to try the issue of it, and accordingly
went to London, and stood on the bridge there two or three days, looking
about him, but heard nothing that might yield him any comfort.

At last it happened that a shopkeeper there, hard by, having noted his
fruitless standing, seeing that he neither sold any wares nor asked any
alms, went to him and most earnestly begged to know what he wanted there,
or what his business was; to which the pedlar honestly answered that he
had dreamed that if he came to London and stood there upon the bridge he
should hear good news; at which the shopkeeper laughed heartily, asking
him if he was such a fool as to take a journey on such a silly errand,
adding, "I'll tell you, country fellow, last night I dreamed that I was
at Sopham, in Norfolk, a place utterly unknown to me where I thought that
behind a pedlar's house in a certain orchard, and under a great oak
tree, if I dug I should find a vast treasure! Now think you," says he,
"that I am such a fool to take such a long journey upon me upon the
instigation of a silly dream? No, no. I'm wiser. Therefore, good
fellow, learn wit from me, and get you home, and mind your business."

The pedlar observing his words, what he had said he dreamed, and knowing
they concerned him, glad of such joyful news, went speedily home, and dug
and found a prodigious great treasure, with which he grew exceeding rich;
and Soffham (Church) being for the most part fallen down, he set on
workmen and rectified it most sumptuously, at his own charges; and to
this day there is his statue therein, but in stone, with his pack at his
back and his dog at his heels; and his memory is also preserved by the
same form or picture in most of the old glass windows, taverns, and
alehouses of that town unto this day.

This story was brought to Europe by crusaders during the middle ages,
where it took root and flourished, always with a local setting. Cf.
Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Deutsche Sagen (Berlin, 1816/1818), no.
212.

Aesop

Now you must know that a town mouse once upon a time went on a visit to
his cousin in the country. He was rough and ready, this cousin, but he
loved his town friend and made him heartily welcome. Beans and bacon,
cheese and bread, were all he had to offer, but he offered them freely.

The town mouse rather turned up his long nose at this country fare, and
said, "I cannot understand, cousin, how you can put up with such poor
food as this, but of course you cannot expect anything better in the
country; come you with me and I will show you how to live. When you have
been in town a week you will wonder how you could ever have stood a
country life." No sooner said than done: the two mice set off for the
town and arrived at the town mouse's residence late at night.

"You will want some refreshment after our long journey," said the polite
town mouse, and took his friend into the grand dining room. There they
found the remains of a fine feast, and soon the two mice were eating up
jellies and cakes and all that was nice. Suddenly they heard growling
and barking.

"What is that?" said the country mouse.

"It is only the dogs of the house," answered the other.

"Only!" said the country mouse." I do not like that music at my
dinner." Just at that moment the door flew open, in came two huge
mastiffs, and the two mice had to scamper down and run off." Good-bye,
cousin," said the country mouse.

"What! Going so soon?" said the other.

"Yes," he replied. "Better beans and bacon in peace than cakes and ale
in fear."

The name "Aesop" has been inseparably connected to the fable genre for
two and a half millenia now, although it cannot be proven conclusively
that he even existed.

There is some truth to the gag that Aesop's fables
were not written by him at all, but rather by someone else with the same
name.

The most reliable authority concerning Aesop's life is the Greek
historian Herodotus. Writing in the mid fifth century BC, Herodotus places
Aesop in the
previous century and suggests that he was a slave from Asia Minor
belonging to a certain Iadmon, a citizen of the island of Samos. Most
importantly, Herodotus implies that Aesop was widely known. In any
event, from that time forth, Aesop has not only been known as an
important maker of animal tales, but more frequently as the
original author of all European fables. However, this latter position is
demonstrably not true.

Although from the fifth century BC onwards numerous Greek and Latin
writers (including Aristophanes, Plato, Aristotle, and Horace--to mention
some of the most prominent names) alluded to Aesop and his fables, but
for several centuries the genre apparently belonged primarily to the oral
tradition, with obvious roots in India. In fact, Aesop himself was
likely an illiterate teller of stories and not an author in the
traditional sense of the word.

Romania

A mouse living in the town one day met a mouse which lived in the field.
"Where do you come from?" asked the latter when she saw the town mouse.

"I come from yonder town," replied the first mouse.

"How is life going there with you?"

"Very well, indeed. I am living in the lap of luxury. Whatever I want
of sweets or any other good things is to be found in abundance in my
master's house. But how are you living?"

"I have nothing to complain of. You just come and see my stores. I have
grain and nuts, and all the fruits of the tree and field in my
storehouse."

The town mouse did not quite believe the story of her new friend, and,
driven by curiosity, went with her to the latter's house. How great was
her surprise when she found that the field mouse had spoken the truth;
her garner was full of nuts and grain and other stores, and her mouth
watered when she saw all the riches which were stored up there.

Then she turned to the field mouse and said, "Oh, yes, you have here a
nice snug place and something to live upon, but you should come to my
house and see what I have there. Your stock is as nothing compared with
the riches which are mine."

The field mouse, who was rather simple by nature and trusted her new
friend, went with her into the town to see what better things the other
could have. She had never been into the town and did not know what her
friend could mean when she boasted of her greater riches. So they went
together, and the town mouse took her friend to her master's house. He
was a grocer, and there were boxes and sacks full of every good thing the
heart of a mouse could desire. When she saw all these riches, the field
mouse said she could never have believed it, had she not seen it with her
own eyes.

While they were talking together, who should come in but the cat. As
soon as the town mouse saw the cat, she slipped quietly behind a box and
hid herself. Her friend, who had never yet seen a cat, turned to her and
asked her who that gentleman was who had come in so quietly.

"Do you not know who he is? Why, he is our priest, and he has come to
see me. You must go and pay your respects to him and kiss his hand. See
what a beautiful glossy coat he has on, and how his eyes sparkle, and how
demurely he keeps his hands in the sleeves of his coat."

Not suspecting anything, the field mouse did as she was told and went up
to the cat. He gave her at once his blessing, and the mouse had no need
of another after that. The cat gave her extreme unction there and then.
That was just what the town mouse had intended. When she saw how well
stored the home of the field mouse was, she made up her mind to trap her
and to kill her, so that she might take possession of all that the field
mouse had gathered up. She had learned the ways of the townspeople and
had acted accordingly.

Jewish

The Holy One gathered the dust for the creation of the first man from the
four corners of the earth, The Spirit of Life asked God why did He do
this.

The Holy One replied, "If a man should chance to come from the East to the
West, or from the West to the East or to any place on the face of the
earth, and his time comes to depart from this world, then the dust of the
earth which is in that place where he dies shall not say to him: 'The dust
of thy body is not mine. Thou wast not born here in this land. Return to
the place whence thy dust was gathered at thy birth.' It is for this
reason that I have taken the dust to form man from the four corners of the
earth. Every place on earth is man's home. Wheresoever he happens to be
when he dies there is the resting-place for the dust of his body and there
it returns to Mother-Earth."

The Spirit of Life praised the Lord whose mercies are over all His works.